Читать книгу My "Pardner" and I - Emerson Willis George - Страница 4

THE ROOM in which we have introduced Vance Gilder to the reader, in the home overlooking Central Park, had been his from childhood, and furnished by his father in its present luxurious style, as a reward for his devotion to the profession of journalism.

His father had invested his income in real estate, and in the lapse of years found himself possessed of a fortune many times greater than he had ever anticipated. He traveled a great deal over the west, and at Gold Bluff, Idaho, he found in Ben Bonifield, the owner of Gray Rocks, a playmate of his youth.

Ben Bonifield had staked out a claim which he called “Gray Rocks,” and had worked away for several years with pick and shovel, believing that some day he would “strike it rich” – and from the output of other mining properties in that vicinity, it seemed as if his expectations might be realized some day.

He deeded a half interest in his mine to the elder Gilder, in consideration of certain moneys advanced him to develop the property. This one investment was the only one that Mr. Gilder ever made outside of New York City, and it is quite probable that in making this one it was not so much an investment as a desire to assist his boyhood’s friend. The deed which Ben Bonifield gave had been duly recorded, but in his travels on the Pacific coast he had in some way mislaid it, and on his return to New York City he had died without ever having mentioned the matter to his son. When his father died, Vance was bowed down with grief, while the old Scotch house-keeper and her husband could not have mourned more sincerely had the elder Gilder been related by the nearest ties of blood.

Vance found his father had not only left a fortune, but also a will. The date of this instrument showed that it was executed during the months of their estrangement, and had never been changed. The important part of the will, for this narrative, was a clause limiting Vance to an annuity of $5,000, provided he remained at the old homestead and gave employment and a home to the Scotch house-keeper and her husband; but the title to the vast property which he owned was not to pass into his custody until he was forty years of age.

To the credit of the son, it can be said that he entertained no enmity towards his father because of this provision, but regarded it as simple justice. In the meantime, he devoted himself with more energy than ever to his profession, was economical in his habits, and had the consolation of knowing that he was being advanced from time to time on the Banner, until he was now regarded as one of the most trusted men on that great journal.

To be a member of the Banner staff of newsgatherers was a position to be envied by those similarly employed on less imposing journals. His associates – the city editor, the religious editor, the dramatic critic, the police reporter, and the heads of several other departments – were in the habit of discussing the topics of the times from a strictly democratic standpoint, with the regularity with which day follows night.

The “old man,” or managing editor, could not take a deeper interest in the columns of the Banner than did his faithful coterie of assistants. The managing editor prided himself on his ability to recognize and command intellectual forces.

With the breaking of the dawn anew paper, filled with news deftly gathered from the four corners of the earth, was ushered into life, teeming with the world’s history of a day, to be discussed by the banker, the politician, and the professional and non-professional classes over the breakfast-table. Each issue was a daily history possessing a soul and character distinctly its own, which collectively made up the policy of one of the greatest journals of New York City. Before high noon of each day a newspaper has generally served its purpose – dies; is a thing of the past, and the record of events found in its columns becomes ancient history.

The following morning at ten o’clock, agreeable to his promise, Vance Gilder was at the Murray Hill Hotel, and sent up his card to Ben Bonifield. Instead of receiving in his room, the old gentleman joined Vance in the lobby. He was a typical character – once seen, never forgotten. An old Virginian by birth and education, he still retained the courtly polish of one of the southern aristocracy, which many years of mining life had not been able to wholly destroy. In stature he was fully six feet, and rather portly; his oval face was smooth-shaven, save an iron-gray moustache. He wore his hair rather long, and the rim of his black felt hat was broad as a sombrero. His Prince Albert coat of broad-cloth was of old-time date, and suggested a revival of ancient gentility.

“Glad to see yo’, suh; am delighted to meet a son of my old friend, Colonel Gilder.”

He clasped Vance’s hand warmly, and his face was full of sympathy as he referred to the recent information he had received concerning Mr. Gilder’s death. They soon found seats in a retired corner of the lobby, and after assuring Vance that he had entirely recovered from his recent illness, the old gentleman plunged into business.

“Yo’ know, of cou’se, that yo’r father owned a one-half interest in Gray Rocks?”

“No, I was not aware of the fact until your daughter named it to me yesterday,” replied Vance.

“Yo’ su’prise me, suh, yo’ really do,” said the old miner, “but it is true, nevertheless, and the deed is on record; and what is mo’, suh, Gray Rocks is destined to be the richest gold mine in Idaho. Yo’ see, I have been workin’ away on Gray Rocks for seven years – kep’ right at it, winter an’ summer, and while I have not ‘struck it’ yet, I am positive, suh, that if I had a little mo’ money to push the work, my most sanguine expectations would be mo’ than re’lized. We are now on the 200 foot level, but it seems, suh, it is not deep enough. A most wonderful showin’, in my opinion, suh, will be made when the 300 foot level is reached, and we have cross-cut into the vein.”

“I am not very well versed in regard to mining, in fact know next to nothing about it, but of course, as I am a half owner in a gold mine, I am naturally interested in having it developed.”

“Well, suh,” said the old gentleman, “yo’ see I am. I know all about mines. Yes, suh, I assure yo, on my honor, that I can tell ‘pay dirt’ as far as I can see it, suh, if I am sixty-five years old, Yo’ see, suh,” continued the old miner, “let us suppose this table is the top of the mountain. Now, where I place this ink-stand, is Gray Rocks; just beyond, here where I lay this pen-stalk, is the Peacock mine. It joins us directly on the nawth. The Excelsior is at this point, where I lay my eye-glasses, directly south of Gray Rocks. Both of them, suh, are payin’ immense dividends, and befo’ a year, with proper management, Gray Rocks will be doin’ the same. When he learned, suh, that I only had a half interest, he refused to talk with me any mo’ about it. He said he wanted all or none. Confidentially, Mr. Gilder, I consider old Grim the most ill-mannered man in the Fish River minin’ district, and us miners, suh, usually form a pretty correct idea of mankind in gene’l. I have been minin’ it now fo’ over thirty years, and while I have never ‘struck it’ yet, I assure yo’ on my word, suh, that I have mo’ confidence in Gray Rocks to-day than ever befo’.”

“Of course, Col. Bonifield,” said Vance, “I know nothing about your technical expressions of ‘sinking-shafts,’ ‘cross-cutting,’ and all that sort of thing, but I remember now of my father speaking of you on several occasions, and I doubt not, if he were living, he would gladly assist you in any way in his power. Personally, my means are limited, but if your wants are not too great, I will gladly give you my assistance.”

“Give me yo’re hand, suh! Why, Mr. Gilder, yo’re a gentleman that I’m proud to meet, suh.

“What we must do, suh, is to sink the shaft on Gray Rocks to a 300 foot level, and we will cross-cut into a vein of wealth, suh, that will make yo’ rich as a Vanterbilt. Yes, suh; take my word fo’ it. Now,” he continued, “there is old Grim; he owns a majority of the stock in the Peacock, and he wanted to buy out Gray Rocks, but of the old school, belonging to one of the oldest and proudest families of Virginia – yes, suh. Now, you have a half interest in Gray Rocks, and if yo’ can furnish the money, Mr. Gilder, to sink the shaft to the 300 foot level, I will go back to Gold Bluff and immediately commence the work – and mind, Mr. Gilder, I give yo’ my word that yo’ will never lose a dollar; no, suh, Gray Rocks is a sure winner. The claim is patented and our title is perfect; but we must do mo’, suh; we must sink our shaft, and it costs money to sink shafts, and a pow’ful sight of hard work into the bargain, suh. I came to New York especially to see yo’re father and have him help me by advancin’ a little mo’ money. He paid me $1,000, suh, fo’ a half interest in Gray Rocks. I told him, and I tell yo’ now, it will bring yo’ a million. Yes, suh, I pledge yo’ my word it will.”

The old gentleman’s words, his enthusiasm, his southern courtliness, and his unmistakable belief in Gray Rocks, carried Vance quite away, in anticipation of his half-ownership in a gold mine. He mentally computed the amount of money he had in the bank, and felt that he would willingly check out his last half-dollar to sink the shaft on Gray Rocks to a 300 foot level.

He had to his credit in the Chemical National Bank some fifteen thousand dollars, and finally ventured to ask about how much it would take to do the work.

“Why, yo’ see, suh,” replied the old miner, “the mo’ a fellow has, the quicker he can sink a shaft. Now, I could get along at present with, say $1,500, but $2,000 would be betteh, and $2,500 would be a great plenty.”

“Very well,” replied Vance, “I’ll advance you $2,500, and can bring it to you within a couple of hours.”

The old gentleman was highly delighted with Vance’s ready acquiescence in the matter, and shook his hand warmly, assuring him that he was a very true Virginian. Taking his leave, he quitted the hotel, and in less than two hours paid to Col. Bonifield $2,500.

The old gentleman was very urgent for Vance to remain and lunch with him.

“My Louise, suh,” he said, “will be delighted to see yo’.

Now, suh, there’s one girl in a thousand. I call her a diamond in the rough, suh. She stays by the old man, and has just as much faith in the ultimate outcome of Gray Rocks as I have, I sometimes think, suh, that I ought not to keep her away so far from civil’zation, so to speak, among the mountains; but she says, ‘We will wait until we strike it.’ I assure yo’, suh, she is a wonderful comfort to me.”

Vance endeavored to persuade the old gentleman to bring his daughter and stop at his house for a few days, but the old miner explained that his stay could not be prolonged; that he was impatient to begin work on the mine, sinking the shaft to the 300 foot level, and then commence cross-cutting. He insisted that he must start for Gold Bluff by the evening train.

Ascending to the ladies’ parlor, Vance waited until the old miner brought his daughter to bid him good-bye. As she came into the room on the arm of her stately father, Vance had hard work to convince himself that such a queenly girl as stood before him could have grown to such loveliness among the mountains of the northwest.